Two Cheers for Anarchism by James C. Scott: a great point about the true meaning of anarchism buried under economic wrongness and political timidity. Still somehow net quality, and see my Reason review for more details there. Maybe I was just excited to have a lefty-dude I can still recommend.

The Art of Being Free by Wendy McElroy: the woman who bridges the gap — hell, bothers mentioning the gap — between the Henry David Thoreau who sat in jail on principle and the one who said “the state was nowhere to be found” while picking berries; who also manages to be optimistic about the future while dubbing the U.S. a police state, break out the lesser-known libertarian heroes like R. C. Hoiles, and basically be a way better libertarian than most of us.

Female Chauvinist Pigs by Ariel Levy: holy 2004 panics, Batman! A slight book borrowed from friend’s bookshelf and read one insomniac night. Some fine points, truths, observations buried under a screamingly anecdotal, panicky, judgmental lefty-worried mess of writing. Levy is particularly judgmental towards sex workers, falling into the “nobody chooses that” trope. Indeed, anything where sex and money are remotely connected seems to worry her greatly. Meanwhile, the points that ring the most true for me were, say, comparisons between Jay Leno (who is let’s face it, very odd looking) and the gams-showing, cleavage-baring Katie Couric monster who filled in on for Leno on The Tonight Show. IE am not as worried about people selling sex, period, as I am frustrated by the same jobs requiring different things from a man and a woman, namely the latter always needs to sexy while doing [it]. Bonus: felt slightly more guilty than usual for wanting to go on Red Eye so much after reading.

[Halfway through] Wrestling With Moses: How Jane Jacobs Took on New York’s Master Builder and Transformed the American City by Anthony Flint: Urban outrage never used to interest me, dad’s railing notwithstanding, until I realized just how God damned nasty people like Robert Moses were towards the poor, etc. No wonder dad was such a big fan of Jacobs’, and indeed interviewed her for Reason in 2001! (Dad also did an epic piece on Pittsburgh eminent domain in 2000.) Nevertheless, the writing quality of Flint is only so-so, and though I care, like economics, I have to read semi-slowly in order to get the proper details to care the proper way. Somehow, as much as I want to be Dad or Jim Epstein in my outrage for the downtrodden urban man, it does not come as easily as I wish. Mainly because they’re great at that sort of piece, and I am God damned lazy.

[Skimmed] Pledged: The Secret Life of Sororities by Alexandra Robbins: Another one from the bookshelf of the aforementioned friend. Flipped through and read bits here and there tonight/today. Not nearly interesting a subject to be interesting, not trashy enough to be really worth savoring. Especially not after the numerous episodes of Degrassi this household has watched in the last few weeks. It felt tame, but angsty, but not relatable angsty. Bonus: need to shame friend further for having read this instead of Hitch-22 when she received both for last year’s Christmas. Other thought: Alexandra Robbins, sure, you count as an “investigative reporter” for doing this, but something about this is so rom-com that I cannot take it seriously. You just cannot be not played by Kate Hudson in the movie in my head. Ugh.

[Begun] A War of Nerves: Soldiers and Psychiatrists in the 20th Century by Ben Shepard: It’s from 2003, I have read 20 pages, and I already feel like it’s judging me for having a “fashionable” interest in the subject of shell-shock thanks to the amazing ’90s novel Regeneration by Pat Barker. And holy hell, I need to read more fiction, eh? Nevertheless, fascinating subject. I feel like a horrible person when I say this, but it’s a relief in some ways that so many people respond so poorly to warfare. Because if that doesn’t fuck you up, what should? And indeed, if humans react so badly to being put in that situation, doesn’t that bode well for us as a species, just a bit?

Some good suggestions in “10 Mistakes Libertarians Make” but dammit, telling someone their vote doesn’t count is NOT the same as saying their homeless shelter volunteering doesn’t count. That’s the whole point!

Cop gets four years for beating death of a disabled man. I think that counts as progress, which is the worst bit of all. The officer was charged with federal civil rights violation, not, ya know, murder or manslaughter, since the DA didn’t press charges.

Vaguely paying attention to Gen. Petraeus scandal, if only because it continues the trope of the woman journalist/investigator/etc. who sleeps with her subject and that is really God damn annoying. I guess there are two crazy ladies now?

New York Timesop-ed doc on Chris Williams of Montana Cannabis who is facing 80 years in prison. Another Montana Cannabis co-owner, Richard Flor, died in prison in August, a few months into his five-year term.

“Police were forced to shoot a dog” during a narcotics SWAT search warrant on a house which contained an infant. Comforting!

–“Where Eagles Dare” by the Misfits; urge to: pump fist and poorly hardcore dance while screaming: “I ain’t no God damn son of a bitch!”.

-”Copperhead Road” by Steve Earle; need to: put fist in air in manner of fratty guy or hipster, both of whom sincerely adore “Don’t Stop Believing” but you hate that song. Flail extra from “they draft the white trash first round here anyway” line until end, scream “now the DEA’s got a chopper in the air!”

–“Carry Me Back to Virginia” by Old Crow Medicine Show; must: do some sort of flat-footing while moshing and thinking about poor Confederate soldiers.

–“Drunken Lullabies” by Flogging Molly; used to while restless at age 15-17: actually run into walls of house, closet doors, due to lack of available mosh pit.

–“Harlem River Blues” by Justin Townes Earle; you: wave your arms, clap, walk around and generally feel the gospel spirit, which is weird since the song is about committing suicide.

–“Calamity Song” by the Decemberists; sit up straight; write a few bracing words in a Microsoft Word doc because of that excellent beginning, nod because you are just so pumped for your montage of productivity, even if this song seems to be about the end of the world.

–“Suffragette City” by David Bowie; dance, using more hips and shoulders than usual: repeat the words you know which are “hey, man” and “suffragette city!” and don’t forget “wham, bam, thank you ma’am.”